Not Yet
by mistymay951
Summary: When Korra is fatally wounded in battle, Mako is the one to bring her to safety. Her last moments with the brooding firebender who never truly knew that he cared so deeply for the young Avatar. Well not until it was too late, that is. Finished TWO-SHOT, but it can be read as just a ONE-SHOT.
1. Part 1

Authors Note: So another Angst ridden story, just a warning. I must really like killing off characters! I'm not sure if I'm pleased with it, but I'd really like some feedback, so reviews would be greatly appreciated! I think I'm going to posts some fluffy drabbles later this week; I'm not always this depressing. Just so y'all know.

**Disclaimer- I do not own Legends of Korra. The only thing I own is the plot.**

Not Now

Mako didn't think a body could bend like that without breaking in half, well not until he saw it happen.

Korra floats high in the sky of an equalist ridden Republic City, her eyes glowing an ugly blue that casts eerie shadows over her now bloodied and bruised face. Her calloused hands, yielding the power of thousands of previous Avatars, work to send walls of earth, and bursts of air towards the crowd of people that Amon had recently disappeared into. Although her usually expressive eyes show no sign of fear, Korra is truly terrified; fat, wet tears trail down her tanned cheeks, their paths illuminated by the bursts of fire that spew from her palms, and Mako is truly afraid. Not afraid of her, like he should be, like everyone else is. No, he's afraid for her, afraid she'll hurt herself, kill herself.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Lieutenant turn his Kali Stick on an explosive setting; before Mako has time to react, it is sent hurtling towards Korra's exposed torso. She is hit square in the chest, and her face contorts in rage and pain as she falls towards the concrete street. He flinches as her body strikes the ground violently; her spine curling as a silent scream of agony escapes her lips before she collapses limp and useless in the middle of the street.

Mako immediately turns from the dozen or so chi-blockers that he has been sparring with and runs to her body. He breathes out a quick sigh of relief when he sees that her eyes have returned to their normal cerulean, but his consolation is short lived as her face scrunches in anguish, and her eyes roll back into her head. Mako looks desperately at Bolin who is still brawling with a handful of equalists.

"Bro, get her out of here! I'll be fine. Just go!" Bolin yells breathlessly over the raging battle. Mako nods, leaning down carefully and scooping her into his arms, trying to ignore the blood that flows rapidly onto his fingers from a crack in her skull; he has to get her out of there now. The firebender pulls her close, looking around frantically for a way out of the maze of fighting citizens. He sees his opening and bolts, narrowly dodging an electrified bola as he swiftly makes his way to a door of the abandoned probending arena. He's almost at his destination when he finds himself surrounded on all sides by the enemy. He thinks quickly as he summons his inner fire and breathes out, fast and hot. Blue tinted fire spews from his mouth, burning his throat raw and leaving traces of soot on his tongue, but Mako ignores the pain, using his long neck to shield Korra's face from the consuming flames. He hears her whimper pathetically as he shifts his weight, and Mako whispers a quiet apology in her ear before charging through the pathway he has created into the empty arena. He flies through the door, depositing her hastily on a training mat and running back to lock the entryway with shaking fingers.

When he looks back, she is visibly shaking, her body twitching in angry, sporadic movements, low grunts of torture sneaking out of her clenched jaw. He kneels down next to her, clasping his hands tightly over her, willing away the pain, hoping that if he holds on hard enough, he will never have to let her go.

"Korra, honey," he whispers, trying to stay calm as he fights back tears, "You have to calm down," her hand tightens as another wave of pain crashes ruthlessly through her body and leaves her gasping for breathe. He holds her hand more firmly, intertwining their fingers and tracing patterns on her palm as he carefully moves her head to lie across his lap. He hums that lullaby his mother used to love; the one that always made him feel better when he came home with a scratch. Slowly, but surely, her breathing evens out and she comes too.

"Mako?" the young Avatar asks faintly, coughing up a mouthful of crimson liquid.

"It's okay; it's only me," he reassures, stroking her matted brown hair affectionately. "Listen Korra, this is all going to be alright. All you have to do is heal yourself, and you'll be as good as new," even as the words leave his mouth, he knows the suggestion is ridiculous. She can barely move her hand, let alone heal her whole battered body, but he has to try; he can't give up on her. She never gave up on him, even when he was a complete jerk to her, even when he rejected her, and even when he threatened to sever their friendship. She always stayed and tried to fix it.

"I can't," she coughs, more blood dripping down her chin. He gently wipes it away with his sleeve before taking off his scarf and pressing it as painlessly as possible onto her bloodied stomach.

"Yes, you can," he says firmly, like he truly believes she can, "You're the strongest person I know, all you have to-"

"Stop Mako," she whispers feebly, successfully cutting him off, despite the low volume of her voice, "I can't move," tears flow in a steady stream down her face, "And even if I could, it would take spirit water to heal this mess," she smiles bitterly, "Thank you, Mako. You and Bo were my first human friends."

"No Korra! Stop!" Mako yells, finally letting out the stinging tears that have been threatening him since her fall, "Stop acting like this is the end because it's not!"

"But it is," she whimpers, timid blue eyes meeting watery golden, a silent plea for understanding.

"No, it's not! You're –no we're- going to get through this!" he shouts desperately, knowing that he's holding onto false hope. Holding on because he's selfish because he cares about her and losing her is like losing his parents all over again. She was supposed to be his family now. "You can't leave us yet because you still haven't properly seen the city or surfed in Yue Bay in the summer because I still owe you for getting us into the championships and because I love you, Korra, and I don't want you to go just yet," his voice falters a little at the end, emotion dripping from his words.

He starts to stand up to fetch her a basin of water, but her hand tightens around his before he is on his feet. "Please, don't leave me," she pleads, "I don't want to be alone. I'm scared," he's mildly surprised by her childlike tone, but he understands the meaning of the words. She's not afraid of being alone; she's afraid of dying alone. Her voice sounds weaker than it did five minutes ago, "Please."

He settles down on the ground again, their fingers still intertwined and her head still resting on his legs. Faint sounds of fighting can still be heard outside, quieter than before, as her breathing begins to get shallower, more labored, like each breath is a chore.

"Tell Bolin that I'll miss him," she whispers with heavily lidded eyes; he shakes his head frantically not ready to accept this. He could never really accept it, not even if they both lived 100 years, but it's worse now. She still has a future, a life that she will never be allowed to live. "And you're still a jerk, but I love you too, Cool Guy." Her body convulses once more, and then her head lulls to the side, all her muscles going limp.

"Korra?" Mako says, panic filling his raspy voice as he gathers her up in his arms. There's a heavy knock on the wooden door of the arena, and he can faintly hear his brother's fatigued voice telling him to open the door, but Mako is frozen. He hears a thud and a loud grunt as Bolin uses brute strength to kick open the door.

Bolin walks in and sees Korra pulled close to Mako's chest, "Thank the spirits she's okay," the younger of the two brothers sighs, "Korra, sweetheart, you took a pretty bad fall back there; you scared the noodles out of us." Mako flinches, pulling Korra even further into him, if that's even possible, as a sob escapes his lips.

"Mako, what's wrong? Did they take your bending?" Bolin asks, leaning over to take his brother temperature with the back of his hand, like their mother used to do when they were sick. As he does so, his hand accidentally brushes against the Avatar's bare forearm, and for the first time he notices how cold she is. How quiet she has been. Where there was once booming laughter and whispered jokes, lay only silence, suffocating and nauseating.

"No" whispers Bolin as realization strikes him as hard as a pack of hungry wolfbats, "Mako? Mako, please say she's okay." Mako closes his eyes tighter before nuzzling his nose into her hair and letting it muffle the sound of his weeping.

Next to him, he hears Bolin collapse, holding hard onto Korra's exposed arm, his knuckles white from effort. Mako knows that right now, Bo wishes that it were him limp and lifeless on the floor; he knows because the same thoughts plague his mind, but Korra would never allow that. She would sacrifice her life before she let another person die for her.

The brothers don't know how long they lay there, tangled up in the sight and smell of Korra, but it is long enough that the fighting outside has stopped completely. He knows that Tenzin and the police force are probably out searching for them, but Mako can't quite seem to remember how his legs work. He can't will himself to be the one to announce her death because once he says it out loud, that makes it true; it makes it real. Finally, after several long minutes, or was it hours, Bolin stumbles away to find Tenzin, his sight blurred and his voice raspy.

Tenzin arrives shortly after, with Bolin trailing after him like a lost Armadillodog, a look of grief clouds the airbender's normally stoic features; she had come to be like a daughter to him. Tenzin leans down to take Korra's body away from him, but the young firebender flinches away and tightens his grip.

"Where are you taking her?" he asks protectively.

"It's alright son, I am taking her to Airtemple Island and then to the South Pole where she will be buried," Mako nods his understanding; he trusts Tenzin. Pulling Korra into him one last time, he places a ghost kiss on her forehead. He stands shakily, willing his legs not to give out on him as he places Korra's flimsy body into the Master's expectant arms. Letting go of her should have been a relief, like a weight off his shoulders, literally and figuratively, but instead, it just leaves him feeling empty and completely alone.

As Tenzin leaves, Korra in hand, it's all Mako can do not to break down again.

"Goodbye Korra," he whispers. His words are carried in the wind to Ba Sing Se, where an earth kingdom boy is born with shocking blue eyes.


	2. Part 2

Author's note- So I'm not really sure if I like how this turned out, but it begged to be written, so here it is! Oh, and in this story, Amon's not a bender, he's just a fraud. Thanks to everybody for all the kind reviews on part one; you're all so amazing, and I hope you like the finished piece. As always, reviews are highly appreciated. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer- I own nothing but the plot.**

Part 2

A 32-year-old Mako walks swiftly down a busy street on Ember Island, dodging expertly through the crowd of people who have gathered to watch a street performer display some bewildering acrobatics. He had been reluctant to come at first, reluctant to train Korra's reincarnation, but in the end, he had decided to do it because it was what she would have wanted.

The Revolution had fallen shortly after the death of the Avatar. As Amon had said, she had become a martyr, a reason for benders to fight for what was right and what was fair. The unfortunate truth was, the conflict would have never been resolved if not for her demise. For months after, shrines could be found everywhere: on street corners, in restaurants, even in people's homes, all dedicated to the city's savior, Avatar Korra. Her death brought new life to a once dead city; it brought equality for all, benders and nonbenders alike.

After the Revolution's fall, Amon was readily captured and sent to The Boiling Rock to serve life in prison. Once unmasked, support for him had fallen rapidly. His sob story was all an act; his face was unscarred, and his intentions were, to this day, still unknown. Most believed he was insane; a man with a mask and little concern for anybody's well-being but his own. His right hand man, Lieutenant, hadn't been as lucky as his leader. He had been killed in battle at the hands of a revenge driven Mako. He wasn't proud to say he was a murderer; he still woke up sometimes, even 14 years later, haunted by the ghost's of his actions, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it. A life for a life is only fair, and if he recalled correctly, the equalists were all for fairness.

It seems silly to say, but Mako still loves Korra, even after living without her for over a decade. He still thinks about her every single day, her smile, her eyes, the sense of humor she held onto until the very last second, the way she was so passionate about what she believed in; everything about her was amazing and unique and so perfect. He glances nonchalantly down at his wrist, where a small K had been tattooed, some years ago, in shining blue ink; it was slightly faded, but it reminded him to always remember her and what she had sacrificed for the city, for him. It goes without saying, he hadn't dated much since her passing; occasionally, Bolin would set him up with an enthusiastic fangirl, but it had never developed into anything serious.

It had taken years to restore Republic City to its former glory. The damage from war was immense, sprawling miles in all directions. Buildings were destroyed; trees were uprooted; everywhere you turned, lay debris and rubbish. Everybody in the city had to pitch in and help. Firebenders would burn down the remains of building to make room for new ones; afterward, earthbenders raised structures and walls while the waterbenders and nonbenders worked to clear the garbage from Yue Bay. Every citizen came together to fix a broken city; they were united.

The council had begun to meet once again, with the addition of a nonbending representative, to reform city laws, and slowly, Republic City became whole once again. It now prospered as a place of true peace and equality.

After the city was strong again, Mako had immersed himself in bending, opening up a school to train young firebenders how to properly yield their gift. Bending was the one way he could feel close to her; they had both carried a deep passion for it. He had continued probending on the side, still enjoying the rush of adrenaline it gave him, but it just hadn't been the same without Korra there to beat the crap out of him when he got too controlling. He had left the team in the hands of a newly engaged Bolin, a few years back, opting to focus more on his business. Bolin was now happily married; him and his wife, Ming, a beautiful, Earth Kingdom descendent, were expecting their first child any day. Mako had felt bad missing the birth of his first niece or nephew, but Bo had understood and assured him that there would be plenty of time to be an Uncle after the Avatar had mastered firebending.

The White Lotus had contacted him a few weeks ago to ask if he would be interested in training the next Avatar; his gut reaction was no, and that this had to have been a cruel joke. They had wanted him to come face-to-face with the boy who had taken the spirit of the woman he loved; it just didn't seem fair to him. It didn't seem right. This child gets to live in a time of peace; a time that was set forth by Korra. Mako knows he isn't being fair, and he shouldn't feel so bitter about it, but he can't help himself; if Korra had survived that night, there would be no new Avatar to train. He likes to believe that if she were still here, they would be happily married by now with a house full of pale skinned, blue-eyed children, a waterbender for her and a firebender for him; _I probably would have been wrapped around their little fingers_, he thinks, chuckling quietly to himself.

He finds the apartment complex where the boy is staying without a problem and knocks lightly on the door, smiling apprehensively at the gruff looking man who answers. He's pulled into the room roughly, and before Mako has time to object, he is being frisked by the grisly guard.

"The Avatar is on the top floor, first door on your left," the man says while releasing the bewildered firebender; Mako nods dumbly, vaguely noting that the man's deep voice matches his appearance perfectly, before turning to the staircase and beginning his slow ascent.

He's nervous, nervous of how he's going to react once he sees this child. Will he be able to hold himself together, or will it all be too much for him? Suddenly, he understands how Katara must have felt when she was asked to train Korra, how hard it really must have been for her. He wonders if he will ever truly be able to look at the boy as his own person or if he'll always see Korra lurking just beneath the surface, looming just out of his reach.

He arrives at the top floor quicker than expected, hesitating in front of the apartment door as he gathers up all his thoughts and takes a few deep breathes to settle his rapidly increasing heart rate before knocking timidly. Mako knows very little about the teenager, only that he was fourteen years old, and he had recently discovered his abilities. He didn't know what he was expecting to see when the door swung open, but it certainly wasn't familiar cerulean eyes looking back at him from the other room. He couldn't help but stare, to drown in their depths as memories flashed through his mind, memories of Korra laughing, yelling, crying, dying in his arms. Every moment he had every spent with her was reflected off their glassy surface and back at him.

"Hi," the boy says, his voice shocking Mako out of his stupor; he felt like he was looking at her, but this voice, it wasn't hers. "I'm Liang." He bows low to Mako, a sign of respect.

"Hello Liang," Mako says still a little dazed, bowing back, "My name is…"

"Mako, I know," the boy finishes as the older man blinks in surprise, "Korra told me," the teenager adds simply, as if talking to his past-life wasn't anything extraordinary.

"Did she?" Mako stutters, his heart beating a thousand miles an hour.

"Yeah, she talks about you a lot," Liang says, pulling the older man into the room and shutting the door behind him, "She really likes to call you an idiot for some reason…"

Mako bursts out laughing, his chest shaking with mirth, and for the first time since he has arrived, he looks at the boy and doesn't see Korra staring back at him. He sees a teenager, 5'8, with pale skin and curly brown hair. He sees Liang, and he knows he made the right decision to come here.

"I was pretty hot in my past life," the boy ventures, chuckling to himself before adding in a more serious tone, "She really loved you, you know."

A smile creeps over Mako's face; he knows.

For the next nine months Liang trains hard, often practicing ten hours a day, six days a week, mastering forms precisely, creating dangerously beautiful flames; he's a natural. On the day of his final firebending assesment, Mako can practically see the fiery determination burning deep below his irises. He passes with flying colors, and Korra would be proud.

When it comes time to part, Mako pulls the teenager in for a "manly" hug.

"You've done well Pupil," he says his cheeks crinkling in the beginnings of a smile, "Always remember your basics, and you will go far."

"Thank you, Sifu," Liang steps out of his embrace and bows low, respectfully, and Mako does the same; they are equal now.

Mako puts his hand on the younger man's shoulders, taking one last look at those eyes, those achingly familiar yet drastically different eyes, and as Liang walks away, the firebender can't help but whisper, "Good luck, Korra," into the wind with a slight smile on his face.


End file.
